Emma took a deep breath as the stagecoach clattered out of town. She looked out the window to see Angel Eyes keeping pace with the coach, which reassured her. He met her eyes, giving her a glance of his own.
She turned to regard her fellow passengers, a man and woman about five years older than her, who were apparently newlyweds, judging from their conversation. The man looked vaguely familiar; she thought he might be the town lawyer, but she wasn't sure. The young woman she didn't recognize at all. They were so wrapped up in one another that they paid Emma no attention whatsoever.
Emma sighed as the stagecoach continued on. Looking at this couple, she wondered if she was doing the right thing by not trying to get Angel Eyes to marry her. Gazing out again at him, so wild and free on his horse, she knew she cared enough about him not to try to cage him in marriage. She knew it would be wrong to try to tame him and that he couldn't live the kind of life her parents would expect them to have as a married couple.
As the newlywed couple continued to talk to one another and ignore her, she pulled a romance novel out of her reticule and began to read.
Outside the stagecoach, Angel Eyes did the job he'd been hired to do. Though the probability of the stagecoach being robbed was low, as they weren't carrying anything particularly valuable, he nevertheless dutifully scanned the countryside around him.
They encountered nothing more than a family heading toward Cactus Flats in a buckboard, followed a short time later by a couple of saddle tramps heading in the same direction. If the saddle tramps had had any ideas of holding up the stage, one look at Angel Eyes disabused them of such a notion and they passed by without incident.
As the miles passed uneventfully, he wondered if he'd made a mistake by deciding to take responsibility for the life he'd helped to create, instead of shoving Emma out of his hotel room when she'd announced her pregnancy to him.
In some ways, he would have done her a favor by doing that, as to be known as the mother of a hired killer's child was to put them both in danger. Those in his profession always had enemies who might choose to take their revenge in this manner.
Instead, he'd taken the middle road. Emma was the first female he'd allowed to get this close to him, and while he cared for her in his own way, he was not "in love", whatever that meant, and did not wish to marry her. With the kind of life he led, it wouldn't be fair to a wife.
But he didn't know if he'd ever sire any more children, so he wanted to make sure this one was provided for. He'd prided himself on always seeing his jobs through, so he would here as well, especially because this "job" had been creating life, instead of taking it.
He decided to have a small house built in a secluded area near town and stash her and their kid there. He knew her family's living quarters above the mercantile had to be cramped, so this would be the perfect solution. It would also allow him to come and go as he pleased to visit them, and as a place to lay low between jobs.
A short time later, they stopped to water the horses and allow them to rest. As it was nearly noon, the passengers could get out and eat any food they might have brought, stretch their legs, and heed the call of nature.
After checking their surroundings, Angel Eyes helped Emma down from the coach, then they went to the creek to water his horse. As the horse drank, he reached inside his saddlebag and brought out a small linen-wrapped package.
"I brought a couple of sandwiches from the cafe," he told her. "I didn't know if you'd think to do that."
"My mother sent a bag of cookies," she told him. "They'll go well with the sandwiches."
They sat on the bank of the creek to eat, while the horse drank and rested. He refilled his canteen as she went behind a bush to attend to her bodily needs, then she waited by his horse while he did the same. Shortly thereafter, they were back on the road.
Late that afternoon, they pulled up at a stagecoach relay station for the night. It was a two story inn with a cafe that had hotel rooms upstairs.
After he helped Emma down from the coach, Angel Eyes told her, "Get whatever you need tonight from your carpet bag, then wait out here for me while I get my horse settled in for the night. I want to make sure we can share a room."
Emma did as he'd suggested, not wanting to enter the shabby inn by herself. She'd feel better with Angel Eyes by her side, protecting her from whatever disreputable elements were inside.
A short time later, he'd returned from the stable carrying his saddlebags."Come on, let's get us a room," he said, taking her carpetbag from her.
The stationmaster was sitting at a desk near the door as they went inside. "Oh, there you are," he said when he saw Angel Eyes. "Stagecoach driver and any guards share a room around back near the stable. Upstairs rooms are for passengers only."
Angel Eyes leaned in close to the smaller man and handed him a few bucks. "I'll need a private room," he murmured with an almost imperceptible nod toward Emma. "And your silence."
The grizzled old man winked at him. "Sure, sure. I remember what it was like to be young," he said. "You can use my room, 'cause I'm going to be up all night." Indicating a door to the left, he added, "it's right through there. No one will bother you and you won't disturb anyone, either."
"Obliged," Angel Eyes replied.
"It's kind of shabby, but it'll do for one night," he said as he surveyed the old man's room after lighting the lamp.
"It's fine," Emma assured him. "There's a fireplace and the bed will hold us both."
"Get settled in while I go get us something for supper," he told her. "I smelled fried chicken when we first came in."
"That sound good," she said, smiling up at him. "Go ahead. I'll be fine here."
A short time later, Angel Eyes returned with two plates of food: the promised fried chicken with some biscuits and apple pie. Emma had started a fire, so it was warm and cozy by the time he returned.
They ate in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, comfortable enough with one another that they did not feel the need to fill every moment with conversation.
After they finished eating, he lit his pipe and sat in an overstuffed chair by the fire. Emma changed into her nightgown and robe, glad to get out of her corset.
"Come sit in my lap and enjoy the fire with me," he said. "The old codger doesn't have another chair, so we'll have to share."
"I like it better this way," she assured him, once she'd settled herself on his lap and had snuggled close. "Much cozier."
"I've been thinking about what to name the baby," Emma eventually said after they'd both had a chance to enjoy the fire and each other's company.
"What have you come up with so far," he asked.
"I thought of maybe Lavinia after my mother if it's a girl," she said. "But I'm kind of stuck thinking of a boy's name. What's your first name? It would be nice to name a boy after his father." After all this time, he had not told her his name.
Angel Eyes exhaled audibly. Since he'd become a hired gun, he limited who knew his real name, but acknowledged that Emma, now carrying his child, deserved to know his full name.
"It's William," he told her. "But I don't much like it."
"Do you have a middle name?" she asked.
"Lee," he replied.
"Oh, I like that!" Emma said. "May I use that?"
"Yeah, why not?" he agreed. "I may never father another child, so he should get his name from me."
"Lee it is, then," Emma said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. She was delighted that this intensely private man had made this concession to her.
He put a finger under her chin, directing her mouth to his. "I think you could do better than that," leaning in for a proper kiss.
They went to bed not long after this to enjoy a bit of physical activity before resting up for the next day.